No longer writing captions here. All new captions are now on inallsortsoftrouble. Link to follow in post below. NOTE: The contents of this blog are fantasy and not indicative of reality or my political and socio-cultural views.
Jasmine was a renowned journalist with the Times. She had built a reputation investigating and writing stories exposing corrupt governments and authoritarian leaders around the world. Her reputation had given her unprecedented access for her latest story, an inside story behind the political machine that ran a powerful Middle Eastern country under the leadership of a new, young, but excessively authoritarian leader, Abdul Kahn, Jasmine had seen him as a prime target for a massive expose.
And so, under the guise of a big blowout story effectively introducing the world to Abdul Kahn, Jasmine had gained herself inside access to him and all his top staff in the heart of the royal palace. However, Jasmine's actual interest was in the story she was trying to uncover - Abdul Kahn's massive personal harem of sex slaves and maids, who he was known to loan to his powerful friends, both locally and internationally.
Right as Jasmine felt close to uncovering evidence of this secret harem, women's rights were abolished across the world. Jasmine watched in horror how, in a matter of hours, Abdul Kahn and his government systematically removed most of their country's women from positions of power and began instituting a massive reclassification of women in the new world social order.
Jasmine had lost contact with many of her close colleagues and friends back in the US, all of them women. Worried at how the US might be dealing with the new world, Jasmine tried to get in contact with her editor and boss. She stayed hidden in her room, provided by Abdul Kahn in his palace, away from the chaos of male-led societal change happening outside the palace walls, afraid of what might happen if she, a woman, was seen in public. While she waited for her editor to respond to her, she continued writing her story. When it got published, Jasmine thought, the world would know the horrors that were happening - an inside story of how the terrible abolishing of women's rights happened in Abdul Kahn's nation.
The second night, Jasmine's phone rang. It was him, her editor. Relieved, she picked up the phone, ready to plan her escape and extradition back to the US.
"Tom, I'm so glad to hear your voice."
"Hello, Jasmine. Give me one second, I'm looping in His Majesty Abdul Kahn onto this call."
Jasmine trembled, and before she could ask or say anything, she was put on hold. Why was her editor bringing Abdul Kahn onto this call? She needed to talk to Tom in private, she needed to tell him what was happening and arrange for her safe passage out of the country.
Tom's voice came back on.
"Alright, we're all on, I believe. Your Majesty?"
"Thank you, Tom. And hello, Jasmine. I hope you've been enjoying the luxurious room I've provided for your stay. We've missed you, its been two days since you've come out."
Jasmine laughed nervously. "Well, you know, just focusing on writing my story."
"Oh, we'll talk about your story soon, my dear Jasmine."
A silence washed over the line before Tom stepped in.
"Jasmine, as you know by now, about 2 days ago, the governments of the world unanimously voted to abolish women's rights across the world. Effectively immediately, every nation in the world, including the US, enacted laws to roll back women's rights and place in society."
Jasmine felt her palms sweat.
"With that in mind, Jasmine, the paper has let you go, effective immediately. You are no longer a journalist with us. To that end, every piece of writing you've written, every story you've been working on, and any academic milestone or qualification you might have is now considered void, in accordance with US law."
Jasmine was silent. Her life, her entire life, was caving in on her. She didn't know what to do, what she could do. The voice of Abdul Kahn snapped her out of her brief daze. "Given your lack of employment, Miss Jasmine, it appears you are now an illegal resident of my country. An illegal resident working on unauthorized slander about my personal life, hmm?"
Jasmine struggled. "Slander? I... I was... I'm writing a story about the strength of your government, your Majesty."
Abdul laughed gently. She could feel the power in his voice, even in laughter. "Was. Were. You were writing a story. And now you never will again. And you weren't writing a story about my government or the good job you've been doing. You were writing a story about this... harem of mine. My stable of sluts and whores and servants. I've known since the very second you stepped foot here. You're a famous journalist, Jasmine. I've been an admirer for a long time. I've also known the trajectory of the secret conversations the governments of the world have been engaged in. And so, I wanted you to be here, in my country, under my law, when the change happened."
Jasmine looked around the room in a hurry. If she shoved her items in her bag and ran for it, she could be out of the palace grounds in about 5 minutes. She could find some help, surely someone would help her, as shocked by the sudden change of women's place, someone sympathetic?
She rushed to pack her things, while Tom continued over the phone. "Jasmine, according to US law, you're now the newspaper's property to do with that we please. We've gifted you to his Majesty Abdul Kahn, as a friendly start and congratulations for the political change he's handling right now."
Abdul Kahn chimed in next. "I understand you were having trouble finding evidence of my harem, Jasmine. That is by design, of course. What's the use of a secret harem if it isn't that much of a secret. Its a shame your story doesn't exist or matter or anymore because you're about to get the evidence you were looking for, firsthand evidence. You'll be joining my personal harem as my personal scribe and whore. I'm sure you'll learn a lot."
Jasmine turned her phone off and threw it against the wall. She didn't need it anymore, and it'd probably be used against her anyway. She grabbed her bag, and opened the door... and ran head first into a big, muscular man, another big muscular man standing next to him.
Oh no, oh no, Jasmine thought as she felt the two men grab her as if she was a doll. Another huge man ran in, grabbed her bag and threw it over the balcony. The two men grabbing her began to rip the clothes off her back, until she was in nothing but her underwear. She kicked one of them, he fell back slightly and Jasmine tried to use that opportunity to run.
She felt a hand grab onto her panties and her efforts to run away worked against the grip the man had on her underwear, ripping it off of her. Shocked, her pussy now completely exposed, she didn't notice a fourth man come up behind her and grab her by her bra step. The very act of lifting her up by the strap snapped the bra and Jasmine fell to the ground, completely naked and defeated. The men surrounded her.
"Stay down, slave. His Majesty looks forward to adding you to his collection."
***
Jasmine lay on his Majesty's bed, naked, her new blonde hair flowing down to her shoulders. She licked her lips and looked up at the mirror across from her, to the side of the bed, her made-up face and bright red lipstick stared back at her. She felt the cold metal of the restraints around her wrists and legs, as his Majesty put on her whenever he was not around her. She could hear him showering in the adjacent bathroom. He was pleased, she had done well during their first afternoon fuck session. It was a daily affair. 8 fuck sessions, every 2 hours, her and Abdul Kahn. Sometimes, he would invite his guest to his room and offer Jasmine up to them. But he mostly kept her to himself, she was his personal whore and slave after all.
It had been a month since women's rights had been abolished across the entire world, a month since she had lost everything, her job, her reputation, her humanity and sold by her editors to Abdul Kahn as property. Jasmine had been used to it all by now. She could barely remember her life as a journalist or anything before that. It had been a long... formative month. But as she lay on her Master's bed... Master, yes, Jasmine thought, she supposed thats who her was to her, she resigned herself to her new life as His Majesty's personal whore.
She picked up her pen and notepad. Whenever she wasn't fucking, being fucked or looking sexy, Abdul gave her another job - to write scathing anti-women exposes about how flawed women were, how they deserved their rights to be ripped from them. He had her write opinion pieces on how she felt women could be further degraded around the world. Abdul had proudly told her he didn't want her to lose touch with her roots and her past.
It was a painful punishment. But as the famous journalist turned personal sex slave and forced gender traitor began to realize with horror, she was beginning to believe the words she was writing.
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Jasmine was a renowned journalist with the Times. She had built a reputation investigating and writing stories exposing corrupt governments and authoritarian leaders around the world. Her reputation had given her unprecedented access for her latest story, an inside story behind the political machine that ran a powerful Middle Eastern country under the leadership of a new, young, but excessively authoritarian leader, Abdul Kahn, Jasmine had seen him as a prime target for a massive expose.
And so, under the guise of a big blowout story effectively introducing the world to Abdul Kahn, Jasmine had gained herself inside access to him and all his top staff in the heart of the royal palace. However, Jasmine's actual interest was in the story she was trying to uncover - Abdul Kahn's massive personal harem of sex slaves and maids, who he was known to loan to his powerful friends, both locally and internationally.
Right as Jasmine felt close to uncovering evidence of this secret harem, women's rights were abolished across the world. Jasmine watched in horror how, in a matter of hours, Abdul Kahn and his government systematically removed most of their country's women from positions of power and began instituting a massive reclassification of women in the new world social order.
Jasmine had lost contact with many of her close colleagues and friends back in the US, all of them women. Worried at how the US might be dealing with the new world, Jasmine tried to get in contact with her editor and boss. She stayed hidden in her room, provided by Abdul Kahn in his palace, away from the chaos of male-led societal change happening outside the palace walls, afraid of what might happen if she, a woman, was seen in public. While she waited for her editor to respond to her, she continued writing her story. When it got published, Jasmine thought, the world would know the horrors that were happening - an inside story of how the terrible abolishing of women's rights happened in Abdul Kahn's nation.
The second night, Jasmine's phone rang. It was him, her editor. Relieved, she picked up the phone, ready to plan her escape and extradition back to the US.
"Tom, I'm so glad to hear your voice."
"Hello, Jasmine. Give me one second, I'm looping in His Majesty Abdul Kahn onto this call."
Jasmine trembled, and before she could ask or say anything, she was put on hold. Why was her editor bringing Abdul Kahn onto this call? She needed to talk to Tom in private, she needed to tell him what was happening and arrange for her safe passage out of the country.
Tom's voice came back on.
"Alright, we're all on, I believe. Your Majesty?"
"Thank you, Tom. And hello, Jasmine. I hope you've been enjoying the luxurious room I've provided for your stay. We've missed you, its been two days since you've come out."
Jasmine laughed nervously. "Well, you know, just focusing on writing my story."
"Oh, we'll talk about your story soon, my dear Jasmine."
A silence washed over the line before Tom stepped in.
"Jasmine, as you know by now, about 2 days ago, the governments of the world unanimously voted to abolish women's rights across the world. Effectively immediately, every nation in the world, including the US, enacted laws to roll back women's rights and place in society."
Jasmine felt her palms sweat.
"With that in mind, Jasmine, the paper has let you go, effective immediately. You are no longer a journalist with us. To that end, every piece of writing you've written, every story you've been working on, and any academic milestone or qualification you might have is now considered void, in accordance with US law."
Jasmine was silent. Her life, her entire life, was caving in on her. She didn't know what to do, what she could do. The voice of Abdul Kahn snapped her out of her brief daze. "Given your lack of employment, Miss Jasmine, it appears you are now an illegal resident of my country. An illegal resident working on unauthorized slander about my personal life, hmm?"
Jasmine struggled. "Slander? I... I was... I'm writing a story about the strength of your government, your Majesty."
Abdul laughed gently. She could feel the power in his voice, even in laughter. "Was. Were. You were writing a story. And now you never will again. And you weren't writing a story about my government or the good job you've been doing. You were writing a story about this... harem of mine. My stable of sluts and whores and servants. I've known since the very second you stepped foot here. You're a famous journalist, Jasmine. I've been an admirer for a long time. I've also known the trajectory of the secret conversations the governments of the world have been engaged in. And so, I wanted you to be here, in my country, under my law, when the change happened."
Jasmine looked around the room in a hurry. If she shoved her items in her bag and ran for it, she could be out of the palace grounds in about 5 minutes. She could find some help, surely someone would help her, as shocked by the sudden change of women's place, someone sympathetic?
She rushed to pack her things, while Tom continued over the phone. "Jasmine, according to US law, you're now the newspaper's property to do with that we please. We've gifted you to his Majesty Abdul Kahn, as a friendly start and congratulations for the political change he's handling right now."
Abdul Kahn chimed in next. "I understand you were having trouble finding evidence of my harem, Jasmine. That is by design, of course. What's the use of a secret harem if it isn't that much of a secret. Its a shame your story doesn't exist or matter or anymore because you're about to get the evidence you were looking for, firsthand evidence. You'll be joining my personal harem as my personal scribe and whore. I'm sure you'll learn a lot."
Jasmine turned her phone off and threw it against the wall. She didn't need it anymore, and it'd probably be used against her anyway. She grabbed her bag, and opened the door... and ran head first into a big, muscular man, another big muscular man standing next to him.
Oh no, oh no, Jasmine thought as she felt the two men grab her as if she was a doll. Another huge man ran in, grabbed her bag and threw it over the balcony. The two men grabbing her began to rip the clothes off her back, until she was in nothing but her underwear. She kicked one of them, he fell back slightly and Jasmine tried to use that opportunity to run.
She felt a hand grab onto her panties and her efforts to run away worked against the grip the man had on her underwear, ripping it off of her. Shocked, her pussy now completely exposed, she didn't notice a fourth man come up behind her and grab her by her bra step. The very act of lifting her up by the strap snapped the bra and Jasmine fell to the ground, completely naked and defeated. The men surrounded her.
"Stay down, slave. His Majesty looks forward to adding you to his collection."
***
Jasmine lay on his Majesty's bed, naked, her new blonde hair flowing down to her shoulders. She licked her lips and looked up at the mirror across from her, to the side of the bed, her made-up face and bright red lipstick stared back at her. She felt the cold metal of the restraints around her wrists and legs, as his Majesty put on her whenever he was not around her. She could hear him showering in the adjacent bathroom. He was pleased, she had done well during their first afternoon fuck session. It was a daily affair. 8 fuck sessions, every 2 hours, her and Abdul Kahn. Sometimes, he would invite his guest to his room and offer Jasmine up to them. But he mostly kept her to himself, she was his personal whore and slave after all.
It had been a month since women's rights had been abolished across the entire world, a month since she had lost everything, her job, her reputation, her humanity and sold by her editors to Abdul Kahn as property. Jasmine had been used to it all by now. She could barely remember her life as a journalist or anything before that. It had been a long... formative month. But as she lay on her Master's bed... Master, yes, Jasmine thought, she supposed thats who her was to her, she resigned herself to her new life as His Majesty's personal whore.
She picked up her pen and notepad. Whenever she wasn't fucking, being fucked or looking sexy, Abdul gave her another job - to write scathing anti-women exposes about how flawed women were, how they deserved their rights to be ripped from them. He had her write opinion pieces on how she felt women could be further degraded around the world. Abdul had proudly told her he didn't want her to lose touch with her roots and her past.
It was a painful punishment. But as the famous journalist turned personal sex slave and forced gender traitor began to realize with horror, she was beginning to believe the words she was writing.